In the Center of the Trophy Room
by Ebony Foxfire
Summary: Here's a random R/H fic that's not really a fic. It's more of a fluff. Much more of a fluff, actually. Oh well, if you enjoy fluffy R/H reading than click on in, I suppose :o) . . .


A/N - MY GOD this is unspeakbly fluffy. It is total, utter, complete, thorough, absolutely no plot fluff. This is a spur-of-the-moment R/H fic that's basically a lot of long words (thesauruses rock!) and mushy thoughts. Thoughts are implied, as always, by "**" since I haven't figured out how to make ".txt" documents with italics yet. Any suggestions would be helpful by the way! For those of you following Veralidaine's "Fa A Bhialainn Ann" story, my part will be coming out soon. Please don't flame me about it, I'm trying, really I am!! Anyway, now that you've been warned about the fluff-level of this fic (genetically engineered marshmallow-cottonball-bunnyrabbit-cattail-little.tiny.bit.of.story-downcomforter fluff) you may read it. Enjoy*hopefully*!  
  
  
Hermione shuffled quickly down the hall, bent double by her heavy load of books. **To the common room for yet another fruitful evening of studying** she thought bitterly. She reached the Gryffindor room and collapsed at a vacant table with a sigh. She slouched against the high-backed chair and contemplated how out of character she must look. **I'm top-student Hermione Granger. I should be happy to be studying. I should be sitting up straight. I should be immersed in my Arithmancy homework or reading Hogwarts, A History once again. I should be, should be, should be . . . but I'm not.**   
  
With a barely audible grunt of exhaustion, Hermione rested her head on her folded arms, and fished a chocolate frog out of her robes. The silvery wrapper crinkled and then flew neatly across the room into the wastebasket. She closed her eyes and waited patiently for Harry and Ron to come traipsing into the room to keep her company.   
  
She hadn't been waiting more than a few minutes before a loud crash told her that her friends had arrived. They noticed her disheveled form and immediately flumped down at her table.  
  
"All right, 'Mione, what's wrong?" asked Harry playfully using her nickname.  
  
Hermione sat up straight and tried unsuccessfully to smooth down her aggravatingly mutinous hair. "Nothing much. Just all this school is getting to me. Nothing interesting has happened lately."  
  
Ron looked shocked, flame-red hair contrasting sharply with his clear blue eyes. "Hermione Granger? Sick of school? Wanting, of all things, adventure? Mischief? My god, woman, have you gone mad?" He placed one of his hands on Hermione's forehead as if checking for some sort of muggle fever.   
  
Hermione shrugged him off with a smile, although she had enjoyed the brief contact between his pleasantly warm hand and her ever-chilly skin. **Why do girls always seem colder than boys?** she wondered momentarily before answering Ron. "No, I have not gone mad, Ron. If you were taking all of this, you'd be fantasizing about adventure too." She pulled out her huge Arithmancy book, at least two thousand pages thick.   
  
"So you're fantasizing, eh 'Mione?" Ron asked with a devilish wink that made Hermione's heart beat faster. "You sure it's all about adventure?" Ron jabbed his wand pointedly in Harry's direction with another suggestive wink.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione shouted mock-indignant. Pretty soon the three were all fighting with pillows scavenged from nearby sofas, and the whole common room was filled with shouting and feathers.   
  
It was at that moment that Professor McGonagall stepped, stony-featured into the room. "Potter! Weasley! Granger! What do you think you are doing to my common room?" Her voice was cold and threatening.  
  
"Er . . .we were, just, er . . ." Harry started to try to explain their antics when McGonagall cut him off.  
  
"Detention, all of you! Potter, hospital bedpans. Weasley and Granger, trophy room. Tomorrow night. And subtract ten points from Gryffindor." McGonagall stalked out of the room, muttering under her breath.   
  
"Cor, who hexed her?" asked Ron, astonished. McGonagall tended to be just a trifle more lenient toward the students in her own house, and Hermione, Ron, and Harry were favorites.   
  
"Dunno," replied Harry, shocked. "Maybe it's 'that time of the month', if you know what I mean." He elbowed Ron sharply in the ribs and flushed with suppressed laughter.  
  
"Harry!" cried Hermione. Another round of friendly blows were exchanged and feathers flew.  
  
**  
  
Hermione snapped her book shut with a gratifying thump. It was fifteen minutes till detention and she had finished all of her homework as well as some of Lavender's (she never had been good at Astronomy). With a smile, she sank onto her bed in the girls' dormitory.   
  
A flash of orange and a sudden weight on her stomach told her that Crookshanks had decided to join Hermione for a little dozing and daydreaming. Crookshanks washed his bushy tail and eyed Hermione as she drifted off into a dream.  
  
**It was snowing out and the whole world was iced with a brilliant white coat of snow. Fat flakes were falling heavily and Hermione stuck out her tongue to catch one. She shivered as the tiny crystal melted in a second, leaving her lips numb for a moment as she felt the winter draft tousle her hair. Bits of snow clung heavily to her eyelashes, glazing everything with a watery film. She rubbed her reddened nose and stretched out her hand to the boy beside her. His scarlet hair stuck out in odd clumps from under an old hat and his bright blue eyes looked on her adoringly. He reached out a gloved hand and Hermione felt her own slide into his grasp, where it fit perfectly, as if they were made to be together. They walked together for a bit, simply taking in the wonder of the blindingly white landscape and enjoying the closeness of each other, the knowledge that nothing in the world could take them apart. Suddenly, Hermione felt a tug on her arm. Ron was quickening his pace, gently drawing her along behind him. Hermione jogged to keep up and when Ron looked back to smile an exhilarating feeling made her stomach soar. Soon they were running together, and the landscape was changing, as were they. Hermione felt a gradual lengthening in her limbs, a growing sense of grace turning her previously clumsy jog into an elegant lope. She was a light brown doe, and beside her was a young red buck. The setting had fluidly changed to spring and they were leaping over brooks and fallen trees, each daring the other to leap higher than the other. They came to a clearing where the two slowed and stopped, changing back into boy and girl. Hermione felt herself drawn to him, and soon they were in each other's arms, embracing, kissing passionately . . .**  
  
Hermione woke with a start. She was breathing hard, and she felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she regained her breath, and she turned to Crookshanks who as staring at her with piercing green eyes.   
  
"God, Crookshanks, I just had the oddest dream . . ." Hermione trailed off as she flopped back against her pillows. Remembering the part just before she woke brought a blissful smile to her face, though she didn't want to admit to herself why.  
  
Crookshanks meowed pointedly and gestured at her bedside clock with his plumy tail. He then hissed as Hermione became fully awake.  
  
"Bugger! Detention! Sorry Crookshanks, I've got to dash," Hermione grabbed her wand and rushed out the door. Crookshanks rolled his eyes and went back to his washing. **Humans** he thought with a mental sigh.  
  
**  
  
It was only when Hermione arrived at the trophy room and saw his smiling face that she had been put in detention with Ron, of all people. Her heartbeat quickened as his eyes lit up at the sight of her.  
  
"Hey, 'Mione!" He called. He picked up a stained blue rag and grimaced. "Cor, smells like acid. Here, have a rag. We've got to finish before midnight, or we'll never get any sleep. And we've got that potions spell to do tomorrow, so you know what Snape'll do if he catches us dozing . . ." Ron noticed the glazed look on Hermione's face and her flushed cheeks. **My God she's beautiful** he thought. "What's the matter 'Mione?" he asked, moving in closer and putting a hand on her shoulder. "You look as if you've seen a ghost!"   
  
Hermione jerked her head up and snapped out of her post-dream daze. "Sorry Ron," she replied. She shook her head to clear it of irksome thoughts such as **Why am I acting like such an idiot** or **Stop touching me like that. Human hearts weren't meant to beat this quickly. I looked it up** and stated firmly, "Nothing's wrong. I'm just a little out of it today." She took the blemished cloth from him and looked at it distastefully. "Let's got polishing, shall we?"  
  
After Hermione's recovery from her dream, the two got along quite naturally. It was almost as if Harry was there with them, although they kept sneaking looks at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. Ron was friendly to Hermione, of course, but he seemed a bit quieter than usual. At about eleven, Hermione couldn't hold in her inquiry any longer.  
  
"Ron?" She asked. "You seem really . . . quiet tonight. Is there anything you want to tell me?"   
  
Ron looked shocked by Hermione's question. It was as though she had read his thoughts. He did have something to tell her - he had wanted to tell her for some time but had never had the courage. Now was the best, maybe the only opportunity that he'd ever get, being alone with her after hours with no one around to overhear. His stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot that writhed unsettlingly. Ron knew he didn't resent Harry, but sometimes he wished that he'd just leave him to be alone with Hermione for a moment. He swallowed hard and started to answer. "Uh, Hermione, I um, well, I guess . . ."  
  
Hermione's brow furrowed. Why was Ron stammering and blushing like this? Could it be the question that she had waited so anxiously for, so long, since fourth year? "Yes?" she prompted softly.   
  
Why did she do this to him? Ron was now as scarlet as his hair and beginning to sweat profusely. He swallowed noisily once more and took a deep, steadying breath. "'Mione, I," another deep breath, "I - I guess what I want to say is . . . that, that I really, really like you." He'd begun it now, and there was no turning back. "I mean, as more than a friend." The words came tumbling out in a rush of feeling. "You're, you're really pretty, and you're so nice and all, and you're so smart, and, and, and . . ." He trailed off, looking with pleading eyes into her face. He held his breath, waiting for some sort of response.  
  
Hermione looked at first startled by this revelation. She'd barely dare to hope that he would actually return her affections. For once, Hermione seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Ron!" She cried melodramatically. "Oh, thank you. Oh, I - I just, I just . . ." She too trailed her faltering sentence off into a pregnant pause. Then, on the spur of the moment, she rushed into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.  
  
Ron seemed at first embarrassed by his studious friend's unexpected (and quite satisfying) show of affection. And simply held her awkwardly for a moment, stroking her abundant hair and pulling her close. Finally, Ron could take it no longer. "Oh, bloody hell," he said decisively, and tilted her chin up so he could reach her lips.   
  
Hermione felt his mouth on hers and nearly jerked back in surprise. It seemed that this was a night for dreams, both to occur and come true. She tightened her hold on Ron and vowed to herself that she would never, ever let this moment go. Her first kiss, with the boy she loved, there in the center of the trophy room.  
  
  
A/N - Hey, you were warned! Pleeeeeeeeeeease review but pleeeeeeeeease don't flame me!!!!!!  



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